


My Horse Won

by SympathyForTheBlinderDevil



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: 1920s, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Misunderstandings, Reunited and It Feels So Good, The Garrison - Freeform, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 05:43:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SympathyForTheBlinderDevil/pseuds/SympathyForTheBlinderDevil
Summary: You and Tommy had a connection years ago. When he sees you walk into his pub, he tries to convince you to have another go at it.





	My Horse Won

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first one shot and my first Tommy x reader. Let me know what you think!

The Garrison was packed to the rafters. It was race day, and the Blinders had properly cleaned up. The boys hauled fat bags of cash into the safe at Watery Lane, and in a move that was highly uncharacteristic of him, Tommy took the whole company out on the piss. Word spread throughout the Lane and pretty soon the whole neighborhood (at least all those who had the nerve) were treated to pints on the house.

You had been on the periphery of the Blinders your whole life. You were on friendly terms with the family, particularly John, who was one of your best mates at school. As you both grew into young adults many thought that the two of you would end up together, but you remained, as always, just friends. When you heard that the Garrison was giving out free pints you thought you’d go around and join the fun, mainly because Thomas was likely to be there.

He was. When you walked through the door he was coming out of the snug, red-faced and sweaty, sleeves rolled up and his collar undone. You hadn’t seen Tommy Shelby looking like that since before the war when the two of you were still just kids. Your pulse raced at the sight of him- so disheveled unguarded. He flashed his eyes toward the door to see who was coming in and visibly lit up at the sight of you.

“y/n, come ‘ere and give us a kiss! My horse won!” he roared.

John, who had come out behind him, patted him on the back and laughingly said, “Steady on, Tom. Let her have a few drinks first!”

While Tommy shambled off to the Jakes, John parted the crowd for you and shouted to the barmaid to fetch another round. “What’ll you have y/n?”

“Dark mild,” you shouted over the din of the crowd.

“And a dark mild for y/n,” he called out toward the bar. “Where have you been keeping yourself, love?” he laughed as he threw an arm around your shoulder and planted a loud kiss on your cheek.

“Oh, here and there. Staying busy at work,” you answered.

“If you ever want to come back to work for us…” John began.  
Your heart jumped at the thought, but your head urged you to put an end to any consideration to the idea. You had worked for the betting shop for a short time before the war and had fallen helplessly, hopelessly in love with Tommy. He was involved with one girl and then another until you nearly broke your heart pining away for him. One night when you were both drunk on gin, you shared a few sloppy kisses and a fumbling make-out session before Tommy abruptly stopped it. He avoided you like the plague for days. He wouldn’t make eye contact or speak to you at all. You’d cornered him in his office and asked him why he was acting so strangely, and with a strained voice, he told you that it would never work out. You felt utterly dejected and turned in your resignation the following week. You’d been in the office at the BSA since then.

“Nah, I’m happy at the BSA. Hey, where’s Esme?” You quickly changed the subject as you tried to shake the memory from your mind.

“She’s in the snug. Go on in. I need to see a man about a horse.” John shuffled off to the toilets and you gave yourself a pep talk about keeping your good sense intact under the gaze of Tommy’s blue eyes.

The night carried on in a rollicking blur of laughter and pints. John sat next to you in the booth with Esme on his lap, and the two of you carried on reminiscing about the mischief you got up to as kids. Tommy sat across the snug from you, holding court with a line of men who came by to congratulate him and thank him for his generosity. He kept his distance, oddly, since he had given you such a warm welcome when you entered the bar. Almost every time you looked in his direction, though, his eyes were either on you, or about to look your way, and it was obvious that he meant for you to notice. Like a spider sitting in the corner of a web just waiting for a fly, he was waiting to make a move on you.

Arthur was three sheets to the wind on whiskey and kept snorting something called Tokyo that you had heard some of the boys at the BSA talking about. He was full of manic energy and in the mood for a dance, so he dragged you out of the booth, nearly knocking Esme off of John’s lap, and led you out to the dance floor. A fiddle player and a singer were singing the old songs while another man kept time on an old beer barrel. Most of the place was on their feet and steam fairly rose from all the bodies whirling and bouncing on the floor. After your third dance, you and Arthur leaned on the bar gulping beer and catching your breath. Arthur offered you a bump of Tokyo, which you declined. He then offered you a cigarette which you also declined.

“Are you a bloody nun now, or what?” he joked. You laughed into your pint and he continued, “You know, Tommy has been eyeing you up all night. What’s the story there?”

Your face was red from dancing, but it flushed a few shades darker as you thought about the obvious way that Tommy was staring at you tonight. “I don’t know. There was a time when…aw, never mind.” You took a deep breath and looked into Arthur’s wild eyes, “I don’t know; let’s leave it at that.”

“Come on now, y/n, There’s a story there. Let’s hear it.” He lightly chucked you under the chin and put his back to the bar so that you would be facing him. “Let’s have it, y/n,” he urged with a teasing tone of voice.

His infectious grin eventually got the best of you, and you relented, “Oh, all right. But, give me a bit of that powder first.”

Arthurs face lit up and he tapped out a line of powder onto the back of your hand. You lowered your head as discreetly as possible and hoovered the snow. You immediately felt your energy return, and with buoyed confidence, you began to chatter, “A long time ago, before the war, Tommy and I got together one night. I wanted more, but for some unknown reason, he did not. He avoided me until I confronted him about it, and he gave me some cockamamie shit about it never working out between us and broke my heart. That’s why I quit the betting shop and went to the BSA. He really hurt me, but I swear if he makes a move on me tonight I won’t be able to resist him. I mean, Jesus Christ, just look at him. I’m a goner if he so much as kisses me. How long will the effects of this Tokyo last?” You finally stopped talking and stood staring at Arthur and rapidly blinking.

He was quiet for a moment, allowing your machine gun fire confession to sink in, then he placed a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what happened?”

You quickly nodded and downed the rest of your beer. “Yeah,” you answered, then looked over his shoulder to the barman and called, “Oi! Another round!”

“That’s what happened,” he repeated. He slicked his hair back and snorted. A look of realization flickered across his features and then he pointed in the direction of the snug, “I remember, now. He thought that John would end up with you. We all told him that John was set on Martha, but he always said that it would be you.”

It all made sense now.

Polly had made certain that when the Garrison was rebuilt (after an entirely suspicious fire) women’s loos were part of the design. A fact that you were oh, so grateful for as you staggered down the narrow hallway to the facilities. When you were finished, you splashed your face with water and tried to sort out what Arthur had told you. As you stood there puzzling, Esme came in and hugged you like a long lost sister. She was known for being either overly affectionate or mean as hell when she was drunk. You thanked your lucky stars that tonight Esme loved everyone.

She leaned against the wall and gave you a beaming Cheshire Cat grin. “I know a secret,” she sang at you.

“What is it?” you sang back.

“King Tommy is looking for you,” she loudly whispered, unaware that they could probably hear her all the way down the street.

“Why?” you loudly whispered back, giggling to cover your frantically beating heart and jangling nerves.

“He didn’t say, but if you ask me…” she looked from side to side, as if to make sure that you were alone, “I think wants to take you home.” She paused for emphasis, “With ‘im.” She put her arms around your neck and rocked you back and forth, then gleefully shouted, “For sex!” and collapsed into you in a fit of laughter.

Your stomach fluttered and you felt hot and cold all at once. You were glad that Esme was too drunk and far too pleased with herself to realize that you were on the verge of passing out. You held her tightly and rocked back and forth with her as she babbled on about the way Tommy had been undressing you with his eyes all night, and how Shelby men were all hung like racehorses.

“I like you,” Esme enthused, “You’re not like all those stuck-up bitches that he used to bring around. If you get hold of him tonight, you’d better hang on.” She smacked you on the ass and kissed your cheek. “When I leave, give it a few minutes before you come out.”

You paced the floor for as long as you could, then you walked out into the narrow hallway. In the dim light, you could make out the outline of his narrow, square shoulders and the unmistakable shape of his blinder cap. He eased his way down the hall, a cigarette glowing between his plump lips. Your breathing quickened and you heard nothing but the shuffling of his shoes on the dusty hardwood floors as he closed the distance between you. Tommy took a deep drag from his cigarette and the glow lit up his razor-sharp cheekbones and his translucent blue eyes. He blew the smoke toward the ceiling and you watched it curl and fade in the faint glow of the bar behind him.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said in a soft dark voice.

“You found me,” you whispered, slowly opening your eyes and searching for his in the darkness.

You were so close now, and there was no room to walk past Tommy if you wanted to. You didn’t want to.

He dropped his smoke on the floor and stepped on it. You could feel his breath, and you were intoxicated by the whiskey on it. You remembered the smell of Tommy from the last time you were close, and a throbbing warmth at your core reminded you just how much you had missed him. A cool, calloused hand reached up to caress your cheek and you leaned into it, closing your eyes and placing a hand on his chest.

He grasped your upper arms and spun you, pushing you against the wall. In the muted light you could see his boozy half-smile as he swayed against you. He placed one hand on the wall, just beside your shoulder, to steady himself, and leaned down until his lips were at your ear. He stayed for a moment, his hot breath moving the tendrils of hair that escaped the barrette at the base of your neck, then he spoke again, “Do you know why I wanted to find you, eh, y/n?”

You shook your head, unable to form words with him so close. His chest against yours, and his free hand gripping your waist, pulling you forward.

“Oh, y/n. We have some unfinished business, you and me.”

You sighed and breathed his name, and he pushed you further into the wall while his hand traveled from your waist to your hip. His thumb circled your hipbone and his fingers sank into your flesh. “I want to take you back to my house, yeah?” he growled into your neck, and you nodded your head. He leaned back to look at your face. His eyes were half closed, and his tongue slid along his bottom lip as he took in your blissed out expression.

When Tommy kissed you all those years ago, it was a sloppy drunken affair. Teeth clashing, slobbering, and furtive. This time, he was passionate, sure of himself and what he wanted. He was a bit unsteady on his feet, but his mouth was hot, wet and insistent. He ground his hips into you, and you could feel his length pressing into your stomach. His fingers inched your skirt up your legs, and you soon felt his hand running up the back of your thigh, coming to rest at the curve where your leg meets your ass. He squeezed the muscle there and groaned. “Now, let’s go now.”

Your mind spun and a small voice, presumably your conscience, told you to think this through. Tommy Shelby had shattered your heart. Sure, you had only shared one drunken night, but it was the culmination of years of hoping, dreaming, and fantasizing about what it would be like to lie in his arms. He had put his hands all over you, kissed you until your lips were swollen, and then he froze. He pushed you away with a lame-ass explanation and shut you out of his life. Did you really want to take this chance? Could you trust him not to do that again? He was probably just riding high because his stupid horse won today. How would he act tomorrow?

Tommy sensed your hesitation and redoubled his efforts. His head moved back down to your neck. Between biting and sucking the sensitive skin there, he whispered your name and all the things he wanted to tell you before. “I’ve wanted you for so long, y/n. You were always on my mind. Every time I saw you, I tortured myself with thoughts of what might have been.” He took his blinder cap off and stuffed it into his pocket so that he could move down to your collarbone. “When I found out that you and John were only friends, I should have gone after you,” he mumbled between licking and sucking his way along your shoulder, peeling your blouse open. “When you came in tonight…” he took your face in his hands and brought you nose to nose, “I saw my chance. I won’t let you walk out of here without me.”

Your knees began to buckle. You ached for him to be inside of you, so you nodded your head, still in his hands, “Okay, I will go with you, Tommy.”

You smoothed your skirt back into place and straightened your blouse. Tommy grabbed your hand and led you to the exit of the Garrison. As you hurried past the bar, you caught a glimpse of Arthur, Esme, and John who was giving Tommy a cheeky thumbs up. You rushed out into the bracing chill of the night with the man of your dreams and huddled close together as he took you home.


End file.
